


The Shape You Take

by michaelandthegodsquad



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom Miya atsumu, Edging, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Sub Sakusa Kiyoomi, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28996275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelandthegodsquad/pseuds/michaelandthegodsquad
Summary: Kiyoomi takes several deep breaths through his nose, making a conscious effort to keep breathing and relax his muscles. "Could—could you—" He squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the humiliated tears that cling to his lashes.Kiyoomi doesn't say it, but judging by the way Atsumu laughs outright, sudden and sharp andmean, maybe he doesn't have to."Are we buying time already?" he asks, his delight audible.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 249





	The Shape You Take

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I have about as many answers as you do.
> 
> It is 1:00 AM, I have work in the morning, this is unbetaed, the word 'balls' appears 16 times. It's fine.

Atsumu keeps his finger under the rope as he secures it, ensuring that there's some give between the rope and Kiyoomi's skin. The cotton is soft from repeated uses and wash cycles; it’s thinner than their other ropes but wide enough to ensure circulation isn't compromised. He sets a timer on his phone to remind him when to remove it.

"How's that, Omi?" Atsumu asks, tying off the rope and giving Kiyoomi's balls, tight and drawn close to his body, a gentle tap with two fingers. "Too tight, not tight enough?"

Kiyoomi grunts. "It's fine," he says between gritted teeth, concentrating on not moving his hips towards Atsumu's touch. His grip tightens on the hem of his hoodie, the only thing he's wearing, pulled up to his chest and exposing his nipples to the air-conditioned bedroom. "I'll let you know if anything changes, just— _fuck_ , get on with it."

Atsumu frowns at that, sitting back on his heels where he's straddling Kiyoomi's left thigh, wearing nothing but a pair of gray boxer briefs. "That's not very nice, Omi-kun," he says, pouting. "I said you could finally come today, but I could still change my mind."

Kiyoomi shakes his head without a second thought, curls swinging back and forth against his forehead. "No, that's—I'll be nicer," he mumbles, then huffs a breath out to blow his hair out of his eyes.

Despite feeling like several weeks, it's actually only been eight days since Kiyoomi's last orgasm. Atsumu had dragged him over the edge a few times that night, forcing him over until Kiyoomi felt wrung dry, so he thought it would be easier. 

Clearly he was wrong.

By day six even his skin had grown hypersensitive, even the brush of his practice t-shirts against his nipples setting off a tingling between his thighs. It was so much worse when he jumped for a spike, when he'd land back on the ground and feel the impact ripple up from his feet and seemingly all the way up to his fingertips, the sensation making him sensitive and jumpy.

When he was driven to distraction enough that his next spike didn't connect, he gritted his teeth and turned his venomous glare on Atsumu. 

"Miya," he'd said, his voice rough. Atsumu turned that sleepy gaze his way and smirked as he raised an eyebrow, as if to say, _Are ya sure ya wanna talk to me like that, Omi-kun?_

Kiyoomi cleared his throat. "That toss was a bit low."

Atsumu had grinned. "Got it. I'll take care of ya, Omi," he promised, his smile a wicked thing that Kiyoomi didn't trust.

"Are ya up to it? After this?" Atsumu had asked later, quietly and away from the rest of the team while they refilled their water bottles. 

Kiyoomi tried not to let himself visibly perk up at the question, like a dog at the sound of a bell. His mouth watered anyway.

"Sure," he said, bottle refilled. "We can do it today." As if he was the one doing Atsumu a favor and not the other way around. 

And now here he is, one hand on the pillow beneath his head, the other holding his hoodie up high on his chest, both clenching to keep from touching his dick. He hisses as the rope, tied around the base of his balls, shifts when his cock throbs. 

"I gotta get the rope off in 18 minutes," Atsumu says, glancing at the timer on his phone. "Should be able to get a few good edges until then, but don’t think ya gotta last the whole time. Unless you wanna try. What do ya think, Omi? Does that work?"

Kiyoomi stifles the whine that threatens to burst from his throat at that, and nods. Atsumu locks eyes with Kiyoomi, brows raised, and Kiyoomi swallows before agreeing verbally.

"Then again," Atsumu says, trailing his fingertips up Kiyoomi's right thigh. "Ya barely made it when I was shavin' ya." He taps his fingers against Kiyoomi's hairless balls, deep red and swollen from being full and tied, the skin smooth and taut.

Kiyoomi does whine at that, quiet though it is, and Atsumu shoots him that wicked smile again, leaning forward to press one soft kiss to his lips before settling back into place. "Well, let's get started then." The lube he pours over Kiyoomi's cock is cold and Kiyoomi hisses, hips bucking momentarily as he grunts. 

"Hush," Atsumu says, capping the lube and setting it aside. "Haven't even done anything yet." He glances downward again and smirks, reaching to cup Kiyoomi's swollen balls, rolling them slightly in his palm.

"Omi, they're so _full,_ " he says with a laugh, weighing and softly bouncing Kiyoomi's balls in his hand. "I can't wait to see how much ya saved up for me."

With that, he lets his hand wrap around Kiyoomi's cock, to which Kiyoomi groans, low and deep, and tries to even his breathing. "That's right, Omi-kun. Focus on how good it feels but don't tip over." Atsumu leans forward, his other hand settling on Kiyoomi’s chest and supporting his weight, his fingers trailing softly through Kiyoomi’s chest hair.

His hand is callused but warm, his grip firm on Kiyoomi's cock, swollen and red and shining at the tip when Atsumu pulls the foreskin back. Kiyoomi exhales deeply, tightening up his pelvic muscles as Atsumu’s slick hand glides over his cock. He lets himself glance down, watches the way the purpling head of his cock disappears and reappears between Atsumu’s fingers, the foreskin bunching on the upstroke. The lube squelches loudly between his skin and Atsumu’s.

Kiyoomi glances up at Atsumu’s face then. His eyes are focused on his hand working Kiyoomi over. His bottom lip is clenched between his teeth, in concentration or hunger, Kiyoomi can’t be sure. The thought has Kiyoomi letting out a shuddering breath. 

Atsumu looks back up at him then, grinning as their eyes lock together. Kiyoomi wonders what Atsumu sees there, if he can tell how Kiyoomi’s desperation is already building. He must, if the way he grins at Kiyoomi is any indication, the hand on his cock speeding up while the other slides over to pinch lightly at his nipple. Kiyoomi’s balls, bound tight, bounce with each jerk of Atsumu’s hand, heavy and obscene. 

“Fuck, s-stop, I’m—” Kiyoomi can’t help the way he holds his breath as if it will keep his orgasm at bay, flexing his lower abdominals and clenching his fists in the pillow and his hoodie.

Atsumu pauses on the downstroke, tightens his grip on the base of Kiyoomi's cock. The pressure building in Kiyoomi's balls has a shudder rolling through his body, muscles tensing and relaxing in fits.

"Breathe for me, babe," Atsumu says, voice low and without the teasing note that was there moments ago. Kiyoomi exhales, shaky, and his whole body relaxes into the bed. Atsumu relaxes his grip on Kiyoomi's cock and releases him, trailing his palms over Kiyoomi's stomach and chest until he catches his breath.

"Did I ever tell ya how pretty ya look when you're close?" Atsumu says after a moment. He has, countless times, but Kiyoomi hums in question anyway. "Love how pink you get all over. And you sound so nice, bet you don't even hear how whiny you get. So fuckin' pretty, Omi."

Kiyoomi sucks his teeth, averting his eyes, feeling his face flush impossibly redder. Atsumu chuckles softly, his hands trailing back down until his thumbs and forefingers frame Kiyoomi's cock. His thumbs tuck underneath Kiyoomi's balls and apply pressure to his perineum. Kiyoomi starts, right leg kicking outward on reflex while Atsumu laughs again.

He takes a moment to pour more lube into one hand, wrapping it around Kiyoomi's cock again and jerking in long, slow, steady but firm strokes. Atsumu's other hand drifts back to his balls, cupping them in his palm and rolling them, thumb pressing into the skin until Kiyoomi groans long and low. 

"Love yer cock, Omi. So pretty when it's all backed up, all red and wet. Do ya hear that?" he says, smiling crookedly and jerking faster for a moment, slick sounds echoing loud in the room. "That's all you, babe. Keep drippin' so much."

Kiyoomi grunts, tensing as he resists the reflex to move into Atsumu's touch. 

"Omi, ya make me wanna…" he trails off, humming as he scoots back until his hips settle on Kiyoomi's calf. He braces himself with one elbow on the bed between Kiyoomi's spread thighs as he leans forward until his mouth hovers near the tip of Kiyoomi's cock.

Even his warm breath is enough to get Kiyoomi shaking, planting his foot on the bed to keep from kicking again. "Don't," he says, quietly, his voice thick.

"But I _wanna_ , Omi," Atsumu whines, his hand firm around the base of Kiyoomi's cock. "Want it in my mouth. What if I just—"

Kiyoomi's vision blurs as Atsumu presses feather-light kisses along the length of his cock, his lips lingering on the head. The string of pre-come that clings to his mouth and stretches as he sits up again is _obscene_.

When the string breaks, Atsumu licks Kiyoomi's pre-come from his lips and hums. "So good, Omi," he says, breathy, and begins stroking slowly again.

Kiyoomi's not going to make it. Atsumu only gets a few strokes in before Kiyoomi tenses again. "Wait, Atsumu, you—you need to—"

Atsumu pauses, once again gripping the base. "I need to what, babe?"

Kiyoomi takes several deep breaths through his nose, making a conscious effort to keep breathing and relax his muscles. "Could—could you—" He squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the humiliated tears that cling to his lashes. 

Kiyoomi doesn't say it, but judging by the way Atsumu laughs outright, sudden and sharp and _mean,_ maybe he doesn't have to. 

"Are we buying time already?" he asks, his delight audible, before he releases Kiyoomi's cock to reel his hand back and slap it near the head. 

Kiyoomi whines at the sting, the burn, a couple of stray tears escaping from the corner of his closed eyes. "Atsumu, _please,"_ he says, and Atsumu slaps his cock again.

"Sometimes I forget how much of a pain slut you are, Omi Omi," he says, slapping Kiyoomi's cock one more time before turning his attention to his balls. The sound of his fingers slapping repeatedly against the smooth, taut, oversensitive skin is loud in the quiet of their bedroom, and Kiyoomi lets himself cry in earnest, tears trailing down to his temples as he takes gasping breaths. 

Atsumu wraps his lubed hand around Kiyoomi's cock and jerks hard and fast and mean, his other hand landing a few more hits on his balls with just his fingertips. 

"Wait, Atsumu, stop, I'm gonna—"

Atsumu stops suddenly, and Kiyoomi's body jerks so hard, he'd curl in on himself were it not for Atsumu's weight on his left leg. 

Atsumu barely gives him a chance to recover, now lightly trailing the tips of his fingers down the length of Kiyoomi's cock and back up, one finger circling the head before repeating the motion. His other hand returns to massaging Kiyoomi's balls, fingertips pressing just the right side of too hard, and Kiyoomi keens, his back arching.

"I don't know if I can—Atsumu—"

"Yes you can, Omi. Do it for me, okay? Just a little longer."

Kiyoomi nods, looking up at Atsumu with tears still blurring his vision.

He loses track of time, his world narrowed to the space between his legs as Atsumu keeps working him over, alternating between quick, rough strokes and long agonizing ones, moments of stillness and harsh slaps that elicit just enough pain to buy a few extra seconds. Occasionally Atsumu lets go completely, leaving Kiyoomi's dick throbbing and flexing for a moment, until Kiyoomi's tensing pelvic muscles are the only thing standing between him and a ruined orgasm.

After several minutes, the lube grows tacky, the friction becoming unpleasant. Kiyoomi tentatively suggests more lube, which was a mistake, the smooth glide of Atsumu's hand over his cock overwhelming. Between strokes, Atsumu's lubed palm rotates in rough circles on the head of his cock, and Kiyoomi almost forgets to keep his hands to himself.

"You're doing real good, Omi," Atsumu finally says, some time later, his voice low and thick. "Almost time. Ya wanna come when your balls are still all tied up nice and pretty for me, Omi?" 

Kiyoomi nods, frantic, fighting to hold his hips still and keep his hands to himself and be _good._ Atsumu wraps both hands around Kiyoomi's cock and picks up the pace of his strokes for the last time.

"Atsumu, I can't, I'm gonna—" Kiyoomi says, breathing heavily through his mouth. He lets himself lock eyes with Atsumu one more time, catching the almost manic look of excitement in his boyfriend's eyes.

"C'mon, Omi," he says. "Gimme your come, I wanna see it."

Kiyoomi won't admit to the desperate way he cries out, cursing through gritted teeth as his body does curl in on itself, nearly bucking Atsumu off his leg. Every nerve ending in his body feels as though it converges in his balls, ready to burst. His come dribbles out over Atsumu's hands for a moment before it seems to shoot out of him in spurts across his stomach, his chest, up to his chin, going on and on and on until Kiyoomi's vision goes dark at the edges.

" _Fuck,_ Omi," Atsumu laughs, though there is a breathy sense of awe to it. "It's so _thick._ "

Kiyoomi blinks, his chest heaving, and glances down. It _is_ thick, tacky and clinging to his skin, covering Atsumu's hands where they work him over until his whole body is twitching with oversensitivity. 

When Atsumu finally releases him, Kiyoomi slumps back, head finally relaxing against the pillow. He barely registers Atsumu moving to straddle his stomach, boxer briefs pulled down just enough for the waistband to press up under his balls as he quickly jerks himself off. 

"Ya did so good for me, Omi, fuckin' gorgeous," he pants out. He works fast, lube and come still clinging to his hand and making sticky wet noises as it moves over his cock.

"C'mon, look at me," he says, his free hand grabbing Kiyoomi's chin. Kiyoomi can't even gather the energy to scowl because there's still come all over Atsumu's hand, now rubbing off on Kiyoomi's face. Atsumu turns his head until Kiyoomi looks up at him, bleary-eyed and fucked out, eyes trailing lazily over Atsumu's face.

Atsumu's eyebrows pinch together. "Fuck, babe, keep lookin' at me like that," he says, giving himself a few more frantic strokes before he comes, warm and wet and adding to the mess on Kiyoomi's chest. 

"Fuck," he says under his breath on the last few strokes. "Yer gonna kill me one of these days, Omi," he laughs, leaning down to press kisses to Kiyoomi's hair, forehead, nose, lips. Dozens of kisses, all scattered between bouts of laughter and praise.

"You did—" _Kiss._ "So good for me—" _Kiss._ "Omi Omi—" _Kiss._ "So pretty—" _Kiss._ "Love ya so much."

Kiyoomi might be smiling. It's hard to tell what his face is doing anymore. "Love you too," he thinks he might say, but with the way his words slur, he can't be sure.

Atsumu laughs, leaning over to the bedside table and grabbing the bottle of water there. "C'mon, drink up," he says, uncapping the bottle. He brings one hand to the back of Kiyoomi's head for support and presses the bottle to his lips, tipping it gently as Kiyoomi drinks.

Half the bottle drained, Atsumu caps it and sets it aside. He stands, leaning down to carefully untie the rope still tied around Kiyoomi's balls, massaging them gently once they're released. "They good? Still got feeling in them?"

Kiyoomi nods, sleepy, and Atsumu hums. "Okay, let's get ya to the shower before ya pass out."

Kiyoomi almost protests, but with the fluids clinging to his skin, he frowns and begins sitting up. Atsumu laughs and helps him stand, arm secured around his waist as they head to the bathroom.

He sits Kiyoomi down on the stool and turns the shower on as hot as he can stand, just the way Kiyoomi likes it. Kiyoomi drifts in and out as Atsumu rinses him off, washes him, and massages shampoo into his hair. The next time Kiyoomi tunes in again, he's in a pair of soft sweats while Atsumu pushes down on his shoulders, beckoning him to sit in the armchair by their bedroom window.

"Gimme a sec to change the sheets," Atsumu says. "We uh. Kinda made a mess of 'em." 

Kiyoomi nods, slouching in the chair until he can lean his head back and doze. He vaguely registers Atsumu coming back, humming to himself as he strips the bed and sets out the new sheets.

"Omi?" Atsumu says, leaning down and resting his palm on Kiyoomi's cheek. "Kiyoomi. C'mon, you can go to bed now. You'll kill your back if you sleep in the chair again."

Kiyoomi nods, his head heavy, and turns to press a sleepy kiss to Atsumu's palm. He's too tired to register the way Atsumu's breath hitches, the way he murmurs, "Fuck, you're cute," under his breath as he helps Kiyoomi stand up.

"I'll order dinner after you nap," Atsumu says once they've settled into bed. Kiyoomi nods, his cheek pressed into Atsumu's chest, finally falling asleep to the rhythm of Atsumu's heartbeat.

**Author's Note:**

> Some tips for cock/ball bondage:  
> 1 - As with any type of bondage, maintaining circulation is key. Remove bindings for a bit every 20 minutes to ensure everything is still flowing.  
> 2 - 6-10 feet of rope will do for most basic cock/ball bondage  
> 3 - Cotton rope is best! (Wash it a few times to ensure it's soft and flexible enough for your purposes.) 1/4 inch thickness is thin enough to use in this area without digging in too much and compromising circulation.  
> 4 - Check in regularly for signs of decreased circulation--a drop in temperature or loss of sensation. As always, have safety scissors handy when engaging in any type of bondage in case you need to unbind quickly.  
> 5 - Shave to avoid pinching, unless you're into that.
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mikeandgodsquad) if you're 18+ and want to cry about 2d characters with me!


End file.
